


Though Shadows Fall, The Stars Still Find Their Way

by combeferre_writer01



Series: The Witcher Stories [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier Whump, Tumblr Prompt, Yennefer comes to the rescue again, witty Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22215406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combeferre_writer01/pseuds/combeferre_writer01
Summary: Tumblr prompt: Can you write Jaskier gets tortured for information by Nilfgard soldiers. But when they are done they sew his lips together and leave him in the dungeons. (Kinda like Gabriel from spn). After like a week of him being all alone and in pain Geralt saves him after catching wind of people stealing that one bard that sings the song. And cue Geralt being hella guilt ridden and trying to help Jaskier.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Witcher Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599160
Comments: 30
Kudos: 993





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The name of the work is a line from the song "Fear Not This Night." A lot of people have covered, but my favorite version is the one by Clamavi De Profundus.

This wasn't the first time Jaskier woke up in the inn room alone to find a note from  Geralt saying he left. They never held any indignation as to where he was going and every time he went to pay for the room, it was already covered. Jaskier would go on his way and they'd cross paths in some other town a few weeks later. 

A week had passed since Jaskier woke up to find Geralt gone and was in some other  Cintrian town's inn playing his lute and singing in hopes of someone giving him some coin. When no one opened their pockets, he opted for going off to another town. He should have stayed where he was.

"Honestly," Jaskier huffed, "I should learn to fight and hunt monsters myself." He  made sure his lute was safely in its case before leaving the pub to find the inn. 

A young man stepped out of the pub behind him and stopped Jaskier. “Are you a bard?”

“That I am. Jaskier at your service.” He bowed slightly. 

“You sang  _ Toss a Coin to Your Witcher _ . Did you write that? I’ve heard a few bards sing it.” 

“Yes. Geralt’s a friend of mine whether he-” Jaskier felt a blunt searing pain for a few seconds until consciousness left him.

A Nilfgard knight towered over Jaskier from where he came out from behind his squire and grinned. “Let’s get him back to the fort.”

* * *

When Geralt came to the town two days later, the workers of the inn, tavern, and pub were confused as to where the bard had gone. He seemed to have disappeared overnight. There were countless bards in the continent. Who said this bard had to be Jaskier?

“Witcher!” a woman called as soon as he entered the pub. He hummed in response. “Do you do wellness checks?”

“I’m no healer.”

“I know from the songs. The bard that sings about you, the bouncy one with brown hair. He disappeared in the night two days ago.”

“Fuck.” So it was Jaskier. 

“You know where he is?”

“I haven’t seen him in a week.” He turned to leave and the barkeep panicked. 

“Where are you going?”

“To find Jaskier.”

* * *

Jaskier screamed as a red hot brand was harshly placed against the bleeding sword wound on his side. He’d woken up a few hours ago to someone shattering his ribs with a club. Things only got worse from there. 

He was held standing by chains keeping his arms above his head and chains keeping his legs from giving in. He was bleeding from various places and had a few burns.

“Where is he?” the guard growled. 

“I don’t know,” Jaskier all but sobbed. He just wanted to put his arms down and sit. 

The guard withdrew the blank brand from the fire again and Jaskier panicked. “Wait! Wait!”

“What?” There was a touch of hope in the man’s voice.

“His horse’s name is Roach.” He quipped. He screamed again when the brand was slammed against his lower back.

“I told you: tell me what you know, Bard, and we’ll kill your useless ass now.”

“Just kill me.”

* * *

Geralt tried to think. Where the fuck could Jaskier have been taken? Two days. They couldn’t have gone far. Who had a problem with him? That’s a long list… Narrow it down. Who has something against him within two days of travel?

A Nilgard fort was a day and a half away. What would Nilfgard want with Geralt? The Child Surprise. He mounted Roach and urged her into a sprint.

* * *

Jaskier panted as he hanged in chains, his head hanging between his shoulders, his chin rested against his chest. 

“Where could he be going?” The guard was getting bored. There was no way this bard was going to give him any information, even if he had the information. 

“Where the money leads.” Jaskier’s voice was hoarse from screaming.

“Last chance, bard.” The guard drew a knife and held it to the tip of Jaskier’s left middle finger. “Where can we find him?”

No matter what he told them they would kill him. It was now or never. “Fucking your mother.” He screamed once again as the knife removed his left middle fingertip.

* * *

What took most travellers two days at a steady walking pace on horseback took eight hours at Roach’s sprint. The strong horse was used to strenuous hours of travel, though she still worked up a sweat. 

The fort was coming into view and Geralt reached into his saddlebag and gulped down a black potion, his eyes turning just as black. Coming to the entry of the fort, Geralt jumped down from Roach and drew his sword. He made fast work of the fools running to try and stop him. The last man to come out wasn’t killed but rather injured so he’d never walk again.

“Where’s the bard?” Geralt hissed, his eyes still black as coal.

“I don’t know.”

Geralt crouched down onto his level and looked him in the eyes. “Where is the bard?”

The guard Geralt directions and Geralt decapitated him. He followed the instructions and reached the dungeons. In the only cell was Jaskier chained up as he had been the last two days, clearly unconscious. The locked door was extra considering he couldn’t have dreamed of getting that far. 

“Jaskier!” Geralt called. No response. Holding out his hand, Geralt blasted the call off the hinges and rushed in, feeling for a pulse. It was weak and unsteady, but it was there. 

“So there he is.” The guard who’d been torturing Jaskier stood in the entry to the cell. 

“Give me the keys now and I’ll end your life quickly. He has nothing to do with what you want from me.” 

“He didn’t say a word then and he won’t again,” the guard laughed. “Faithful bitch you’re got here.”

Geralt’s eyes were still black, his teeth bared. “What are you talking about?” 

“He wasn’t using his voice for anything other than screaming so I had our wizard remove it.” The guard walked around Geralt and Jaskier in a circle. “It’s lovely this plan worked out so much better than we could have hoped.”

“Your men are dead. Give me the keys and your death will be near painless. I won’t offer this again.” 

“And if I don’t?”

Geralt his energy on the guard’s heartbeat and how the pace slowed as it expanded, the guard falling to his knees and clutching his chest in pain. 

“The keys.”

“Fuck you.” 

A few more seconds and the man’s heart burst, his ribs protruding from his chest. He fell to the floor in a sputtering mess as he tried to breath through destroyed lungs. Geralt searched the man and started going through his pockets to find the keys keeping his friend from freedom. At long last, he found a ring of maybe ten keys. 

Working on releasing Jaskier, Geralt wished to anything listening that the bard wouldn’t wake up yet. He didn’t the usually cheerful bard to feel the immense pain, to what Geralt himself had done.

Geralt picked Jaskier up, carrying the shockingly light man out to Roach so they could leave this damned place. Geralt mounted Roach, clinging Jaskier tightly to him.

* * *

Before long, the two arrived in a wooded glade and Geralt laid Jaskier down after setting up his bedroll. He got the supplies he would need for tending to the man’s wounds and started by cleaning the burn. Jaskier awoke with a gasp and Geralt looked to the bard’s confused and pained face. He tried, for a second, to scramble away before, his mouth forming what would have a yelp. 

“Jaskier, it’s me.” Geralt said quickly, keeping his soft and calm. “It’s Geralt.” The Witcher moved slowly closer to the Bard. “You’re safe, now.” 

Jaskier didn’t resist when Geranlt’s calloused hands moved him back to the bedroll but his eyes were still wide and scared. He realised by now he couldn’t talk and that didn’t help things. 

“You’ll be alright. I’ll find a way to get your voice back. Right now, I need to clean your wounds so they don’t get infected.”

The silence as Geralt worked was killing Jaskier more than any infection would. Roach would make a noise or the leaves would rustle in the breeze but there was overall silence. He would hum softly whenever he cleaned Geralt’s wounds. 

There was a pop and Geralt spun as he stood, unsheathing his sword. Yennefer stood before him with a bag of her own. Geralt lowered his sword. “How the fuck-”

“You think so loudly it almost hurt my head.” Yen looked to Jaskier with soft eyes. She had gathered, from Geralt’s internal panicking, that Jaskier had been tortured for information about him. Seeing the state of the Bard, she knew he hadn’t told them anything.

“Can you return his voice?” Geralt broke Yen from her thoughts. 

“I can, though it won’t be pleasant. Trying to find a spell to break a curse when I don't know what one was used could take weeks of trial and…” She stopped talking when Jaskier began patting his pants’ pockets as frantically as he could.

Geralt, knowing Jaskier kept his notebook his pocket when for saddle bag and get the spare writing pad Jaskier had placed in there a month ago and handed it to the bard. Hand trembling, blood oozing onto the paper from his shortened finger, Jaskier wrote the curse down and handed the notebook to Yen.

“He speaks elder?” Yen sounded surprised.

“Fluently,” Geralt confirmed. 

“Know what curse was used makes this far more pleasant for all of us, Bard.” Yen closed her eyes for a second and said the spell in Elder with her hand held out towards Jaskier. 

Jaskier’s voice returned to him with an exclamation of “Oh shit. Thank you.” His voice was still hoarse from screaming but he could speak.

“Can you do anything for his wounds?” Geralt asked.

“Not yet. He’s lost too much blood. I’ll stay with the two of you and help when I can.”

“What concerns me most is this finger.” Geralt inspected the bleeding digit.

“He cut it because I said you were fucking his mother,” Jaskier rasped. Both Geralt and Yennefer looked to the bard with amused looks.

“What?” Yen laughed. 

“He asked where Geralt could be found. I told him fucking his mothing.” Jaskier coughed and Yen retrieved a waterskin and help him to drink. 

“Not too much too fast. You’ll get sick.” 

“What else did you tell?” Geralt was trying to distract Jaskier from the pain that would come with cleaning the bleeding finger.

“That your horse’s name is Roach.” Jaskier let out a whimper and instinctively tried to pull his hand away. 

Deciding to try a different method of distracting Jaskier, he proceeded to speak of the couple monsters he fought in their time apart. Though the story wasn’t as eloquent as the story about the  Selkie Maw, the Witcher did his best to include more details than what the beast was and the fact that it was now dead.

* * *

The three laid around the fire Yennefer started. She was sleeping, Geralt was resting but didn’t plan on sleeping until he knew Jaskier was fine. Jaskier was trying to fight the sleep trying to take its hold. He knew the stories of people who went mad because of nightmares they had; being forced to relive the hell they were put through. 

“I’m sorry.” Geralt’s gruff voice came from Jaskier’s left.

“Pardon?” Jaskier turned his head to look at his friend. 

“You wouldn’t be bleeding and wounded if I hadn’t left you.”

“Neither of us knew it was going to happen. I should be thanking for saving me. It feels so nice to have my arms at my sides.”

Geralt shook his head. “You know I’m to blame.”

“I don’t because I’m still here.” Jaskier yawned, sleep finally tugging on his eyelids. “Thank you.” And he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Time Changes Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier struggles with the aftermath of what happened at the Nilfgaard fort; Geralt and Yennefer learn a few things about reading each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes out to FalconEye because of the comment saying: "I know it's a one-shot but damn I'd love to read the emotional and psychological fallout from this!!!" -- I will admit this chapter ended up somewhat writing itself, but I had to write another chapter and I was having more ideas for it after having read that comment.

Yennefer woke up with a start to a sobbed yell that almost instantly got muffled. Bolting upright, her violet eyes landed on Geralt clutching a panicking Jaskier to his chest. Still sobbing, Jaskier tried to push Geralt away to no avail. 

Geralt wrapped one arm around Jaskier to pin his arms to his sides. With the other hand, he tilted Jaskier’s head to look at him. The second their eyes met, Jaskier stopped struggling and slouched against Geralt’s chest. The Witcher simply hugged Jaskier, placing a hand on the back of the bard’s head. 

“Is he okay?” Yen moved closer to them. 

“Nightmare.” Geralt muttered.

With a gentle hand, Yen rubbed circles on Jaskier’s back who shuddered at the initial contact. “You’re alright, Bard.” 

* * *

Neither Geralt nor Yen treated Jaskier differently. At first. They joked wittily with each other and tried being sarcastic with Jaskier. The second goal was more challenging because the bard was being quieter than normal and could usually be staring at the ground with sightless eyes. He’d jump at any sound, flinch at the slightest touch, and squirm if he was looked at for more than a few seconds. 

“Was my lute found?” The sudden question startled Yen and Geralt. 

“I didn’t see it when I got you out or on the way to the fort.” Geralt dug around for his herbs in Roach’s saddlebag but gave up the search before long. 

“I’ll be back.” Yen opened a portal and was gone. 

The men looked at each other and Geralt shook his head. “Mages do as they please.”

Jaskier shrunk back into himself, not leaving the tree he sat propped against and curling up as much as his aching ribs would allow. Still, he stayed silent. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt reached for his friend’s attention and didn’t continue until the bard looked up. “Talking about it helps. It’s part of why I talk to Roach so much.”

“I already told you and Yennefer about it.”

“Getting all of it out, Jask. I’m not telling you to tell me everything. Verbally talk about it to a rock, a tree--Roach is an amazing listener.”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

Geralt stood and squeezed Jaskier’s shoulder before going to look for firewood. He made sure they could see each other the whole time. Still wounded, Jaskier stayed where he was and hummed softly to himself.

* * *

“I forgot how long humans sleep to recover from illness and injury.” Yennefer’s voice snapped Geralt out of his silent musings.

“Warn me.” Geralt removed his hand from the grip of his sword. 

“I was away longer than I expected to be, but I needed to prepare some things.” She tossed Geralt a medium-sized leather pouch. “I said I’d help him with magic once he regained some blood.”

Geralt opened the pouch to find a multitude of blue and purple coloured potions. “What are these?”

“The blue ones will help with pain and quicken his healing. The purple ones should help with nightmares if he drinks one an hour before falling asleep.”

“What do you want?” Geralt secured the closure of the leather pouch.

“Nothing. He did better than we’ve been giving him credit for, Geralt. You, in the hands of Nilfgaard, would all but destroy Cintra and lead to the downfall of the continent.” Yennefer laid a lute case beside Jaskier’s sleeping form.

“You found his lute?”

“I didn’t try to look. I know a merchant who owed me a few favours so I called them in. Easy as that. This one’s in better condition, anyway.” Yennefer sat on a nearby log. “You’ll be on your own for herbs, but I figured the potions should hold him until you can pick your own. I can brew more of the nightbanes with two days of warning.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Pardon?”

“You pulled strings with a merchant to get him a new lute and brewed potions for him yourself. What about him has your attention?”

“You don’t want me to use my magic to help others? Isn’t that all you try to do?”

Before Geralt had the chance to reply, Jaskier woke with a slight gasp and Yennefer checked on him to get out of the conversation with Geralt. 

“You’re back.” Jaskier’s eyes landed on Yennefer.

“I haven’t been here long.” She shrugged. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better. I feel as though I can’t get enough sleep.”

“Your body needs it. It’s rebuilding.” Yen adjusted Jaskier’s blanket slightly and realization flashed across Geralt’s eyes. 

“You found my lute!” The exclamation was the happiest thing Geralt or Yennefer had heard from Jaskier in days. “Where was-” he stopped upon opening the case and finding it wasn’t actually his lute. 

“We don’t know where your old lute is, but last I saw, it was a little worse for wear and a minstrel needs a strong weapon of choice.” 

Geralt looked at his boots and shook his head, muttering to himself, “Fuck.”

* * *

When Geralt came back from hunting, Jaskier had moved and was sitting beside Roach, balled up under his blanket and talking quietly to the horse. Yennefer was watching the two with an unnameable look in her eyes. 

“He’s an adult, Yen.”

The mage jumped. “And you say I should warn people.”

“He’s an adult, Yen,” Geralt repeated. “I know he looks young, but he is well beyond the years of a child’s youth.”

“What are you talking about?” She sighed. 

“Stop playing dumb. You’re doting on him as though he’s a child.”

Yennefer refused to look Geralt in the eyes. She wouldn’t do it. His damned molten eyes always made everything real. Simply him saying it made the truth more present, something to address. “You’ve never fallen into it?”

“You don’t know him,” Geralt scoffed. “Helping is one thing-- What he needs right now. Being coddled and mothered isn’t.”

_ Now _ Yennefer turned to face him with her arms crossed and a schooled smirk on her lips. “Do I detect jealousy, Witcher.” She knew Geralt was getting tired of her games. “And I thought he was just a friend.” 

“Damn it, Yennefer!” Geralt’s eyes harden as the two made eye contact. “Jaskier never shuts up and he’s open when he trusts you. I can read him. He doesn’t need to be babied.” 

Roach's nicker was followed by Jaskier’s giggle, the bard bracing himself against the chest pain sure to come. 

“What is he doing?” Yennefer’s confusion was unmasked. 

Geralt looked at Jaskier and Roach with fondness. “Talking with Roach.”

* * *

Geralt handed Jaskier one of the purple potions an hour after sunset. The younger man had returned to his spot under his tree after his chat with Roach. 

“What is this?” Jaskier removed the stopper with his teeth after finding he couldn’t with his left hand because of the pain his finger still caused him. He had decided his finger being a knuckle shorter than it had been for the rest of his life was going to be the hardest thing to get used to (and he hadn’t worked up the courage to try playing his lute yet). 

“Something to help with the nightmares.” Geralt sat beside Jaskier as the bard knocked the potion back. “Did talking to Roach help?”

“More so than I expected.” His blinking was getting lazier and slowly. 

“You can sleep, you know.” Geralt nudged Jaskier’s elbow lightly with his own. 

“Not with feeling his hands,” Jaskier sighed. “It’s no good. I close my eyes and he’d snarling that-that fucking... _ grin _ .” Jaskier shuttered, flinching into himself at the memory. 

“Come here.” Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulder and the smaller man stiffened for a few seconds before relaxing into the embrace. 

“Why?”

“Everyone’s scared of me,” Geralt dismissed.

“What happened to him?” Jaskier couldn’t stop himself from asking, but he couldn’t name what made him ask.

“You missed out on some Witchering.” Geralt hummed at Jaskier’s whispered ‘damn.’ “Think you can sleep now?”

“Wait.” Jaskier shifted slightly and Geralt braced him to decrease the pain. The bard tucked himself up against Geralt’s side. “Now I can.” Geralt didn’t say anything about the change in contact.

* * *

“I thought you said he didn’t need to be babied.” Yennefer didn’t dare speak until she knew for a fact that Jaskier was sleeping as soundly as he could be. 

“This isn’t the first time he’s slept like this.” Geralt’s voice was low to avoid waking Jaskier and he didn’t bother opening his eyes or lifting his head from where it rested atop Jaskier’s head. “You never found being held helps you to sleep?”

Yennefer looked more confused than ever before. “Is he not just a friend?”

“Who knows? We don’t.” Geralt tightened his hold on Jaskier slightly when he shifted with a whimper. Jaskier’s right hand took a tight grip on Geralt’s sleeve but he didn’t wake up. 

Yennefer’s confusion ebbed. There really was more going on between them than anyone thought. Then again, if people don’t think the two travel together often, there’s a lesser chance of Jaskier being used as a bargaining chip. 

“You know everything about him yet so little about yourself.”

Geralt opened his eyes, the molten irises seemingly glowing in the darkening night. “What?”

“When you came to me after he was attacked by the djinn, you were hesitant to call him your friend. Now you’re scared to say you love him.”


End file.
